


Give me lies, for the truth is too bitter

by HkHk



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/F, I'm sorry Josie, tags spoil everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4038574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HkHk/pseuds/HkHk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra was right, the Inquisitor had taken a part in killing the Divine.  The fallout is felt on all sides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You stand there, eyes on the ground, wishing you could fall into the ground itself. 

You survived the venture into the Fade, managed to drag everyone out and yet as you stumble out you know that you have lost everything. 

Without much effort you banish the demons into the Fade. You mindfully use your words to soothe people, realizing that you've gotten a lot better at this than the first time you tried to solve a dispute. No one looks at you as if you're just a knife ear. They look at you as if you were their savior. They look at you as if you could save the world. 

If only it were true. You know the extent of Corypheus's power. And even as you hack away at his allies, a part of you wonders how you could have kept your secret so. 

Oddly enough, it wasn't any of your former allies that give you away, but a victim. But she didn't truly reveal you. 

Divine Justinia had shown them the truth and gave you back your memories, the events that lead up to being marked. They all saw it, Stroud, Cassandra, Hawke, Solas...they saw the events that lead up to it. Thankfully that was all they saw. You walked in, having had second thoughts about the plan. You were shocked that Corypheus had decided to continue, to use the Orb. He was surprised you had walked in. Justinia had taken advantage of her surprise and batted the orb out of his hand as if he were but a child. She was very desperate. 

And you?

You grabbed it. 

It sang and whispered to you as it rolled like some child's ball. Then it decided to explode. 

Suddenly you were in the Fade, weaponless and there were /things/ crawling towards you. 

And this was the part that hurt you the most. This piece of memory washed over you, bringing back the sour emotions that came with it. Fear. But also guilt. 

How easy it would have been to leave the old woman in the Fade, to push her away, to escape. Yet you ran to her side, casting what magic you could at the creatures, dragging her along. At that moment, at that point in time, you didn't want her death on your hands. She had accepted your help, knowing what you had done up to that point, she still thought that you could help. What was it that she saw in you? 

She died still, her spirit or a spirit mimicking her died again to help your company out of the Fade. 

It wasn't completely your fault, but you played a hand in it. 

You had thought the matter done, but then the Nightmare said his piece and it all shattered. This idyllic little life, this mask of being a savior was shattered with a few choice words. 

_They really don't know, do they? Ellana? How you helped Corypheus breach the Conclave with the Grey Wardens? Oh my. Oh my. Well. Surprise._

She never did like any of Corypheus's allies. Except maybe Calpernia. Or even Magister Alexius. Like her, they were lured by promises. 

Cassandra's fist lands right by your face into the wall, she is angry, her eyes burns with a fury that threatens to swallow you up. 

"You..." 

"Yes." You breathe out shakily. "Me." 

"What happened?" Dorian looks good, aside from demon blood and guts hanging off his clothes. "Is there something wrong? I sense, tension."

Cassandra's gloved hands lands on your shoulder and grips it hard. "Later." She drags you away. "I am certain Hawke can explain."

You offer no resistance. 

//

Leliana looks like she wanted nothing more than to skin you alive. 

Cullen seems to be using the war table as a reason to not rip your apart. You are thankful it is a very sturdy wooden table.

And Josephine? 

She does not look at you at all. 

"None of this leaves these walls, the Inquisition cannot stand another blow." Cassandra finishes her recount of what happened in the Fade. 

You clench your hands nervously, your fingers twitching. It was a nervous habit, one that you have never outgrown.

Your staff is in Cassandra's hands. You had surrendered it willingly, a sharp contrast to the first time she had demanded you to disarm yourself. It was a peace offering. 

They would decide your fate, behind closed doors. And you know what will happen. After you deal with Corypheus, you will probably die. Would Cassandra be the one to do it? Her sword through you chest? Or would it be a knife in the dark? A tale for sure, the Inquisitor to die in her sleep due to complications. 

You stare at your own feet and wonder why you didn't just die at the Conclave. Death would have been preferable to this. You just had to make friends, you just had to get emotionally invested in these people. You just had to find love.

"And what does...." Leliana didn't even seem capable of saying your name or your title. "What say you?" 

You continue to stare at your feet. 

"Well? Speak up. You weren't shy with your words before but now that your lies have been revealed you have nothing to say?" Leliana sounds displeased, partially because she couldn't discover the truth before and partially because you had lied to her. 

You lied to them all. 

When you had awoken, you remembered a few things and kept many more secrets from the group. You were truly saddened by the deaths, felt trapped by the mark, and most of all.....

You never wanted it to come to this. 

You are a terrible First you think, the worst in the history of the world.

You let your worry bubble in your gut and your impassive face take the brunt of the questioning. Cullen and Leliana take turns trying to question you. You answer the best you could, what forces he has, what leaders. This, the Inquisition had found out by now, but the knowledge would have been better a long time ago. Everything you know is outdated.

In the end, it was Josephine who spoke, who pulled the closely guarded secret out of you. "What did he offer you? Why follow such a creature?" 

You sigh softly, daring yourself to look her in the eyes. "I wanted to give the Elvhenan a home."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haven's destruction and her reasoning.

"You betrayed all of Thedas for that?" Cassandra's disgust could be felt.

You flex your fingers together, grit your teeth and stand up, straight and glare. You let your anger flood into your body, it makes your warm on the inside where you were once cold.

"What do you know of never having a home?" You spit out. "Of the knowledge that one day there will be nothing of your people? We are dying out. Every day we are at war, our ways, our people... The Dalish are the last furtive attempts at keeping the old elves alive. And even then, we are failing. Pressed at all sides by humans."

"But to ally with a darkspawn magister. That is madness!"

"It is desperation. It is wishing and hoping that there will be a future for my people. I would rather have my people be alive than be some anecdotal story in a book. We had the Dales, once. Now all we have are stories. The city elves will soon all that is left and they are treated like property, servants, thieves. Can you not understand why I choose what I did?" You turn your head, your anger spent. "But it was a mistake to trust him. That is...it is my error. I've spent the rest of my time trying to make up for it knowing..." You lick your lower lip. "Knowing that in the end, it will never make up for what I took part in."

"My clan doesn't know about my involvement. Please...don't punish them for my mistake. My Keeper has no knowledge of this either. They think I had gone ahead of the hunters in our clan to prove something. I am..was the youngest First."You risk looking up at the unfathomable blankness that is Leliana, the fierce disgust that is Cassandra, the firm sternness that Cullen wears and Josephine whose facial expression could only be summed up in one word.

Disappointment.

"We should kill you." Leliana says conversationally. "For your crimes. You who have participated with the death of the Divine, you who breached the Conclave, you....you have lied to us. But that is for a later time, when Corypheus is defeated. You might even get that trial Cassandra promised you in the beginning."

You nod.

The end is a foregone conclusion. Leliana wept at night because of you. There is nothing you could ever do to absolve yourself. The guilt sits on your chest like a weight.

What a fate you have crafted for yourself.

"What you've done is inexcusable but...." Cullen looks at you, judging you. You wonder what use that was. What use was judgement coming from a templar? Especially one with such a blood stained past? "I believe you and I forgive you."

"Wait. What!" Leliana and Cassandra just about squawked. "You cannot be serious."

"I am. We have all done things in our past that we're not proud of. Admittedly nothing as egregious as this but she is trying. She could have left, she could have gone to Corypheus and we would all be dead. But she didn't. She stayed. She fought for us. Redemption is a hard path to walk, as I should know. I think this is enough. We have an Inquisition to run."

Amazing. Cullen was supporting you?

"We will see. Don't wander too far, I'm keeping my eye on you." Leliana all but promises and she leaves taking Cassandra with her, whispering angrily to her.

"You will have to tell your Inner Circle, no doubt Hawke had already told Varric and he'll tell everyone else." Cullen advises. "I do not believe any of them would leave. Take care of yourself, Inquisitor."

Then there is only Josephine. She stands only a few feet away but it feels like miles, like a chasm had just opened up between their bodies.

"Was it a game? A joke? Your affections?" She breaks the silence first, hands hidden behind her back.

You think of the nights you've shared, listening to her tales, reading up on the politics that were required. Of the late night dinners, of the walks around Skyhold. Your heart clenches at the thought. You're going to lose her too. You never imagined you'd fall for a shem, they are rude and belligerent towards elves. But she makes you happy. She is your harbor during these stormy times.

You love her. You love her so much you wish to protect her.

Your voice stutters as you speak. "Yes. It...it was all part of my plan." When you die, you don't want to leave her behind. Best to end it now, before either of you get too attached.

"I see." She's cold and you can feel the frost in the air. "I have much work to do, good day to you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts. Thinking. Clan.

The rest of the Inner Circle actually took the news well. Varric didn't tell them anything but had mindfully gathered them up. 

You find it hard to speak with all their eyes, their focus on you. The Champion didn't look like she was angry either, the pity was stronger in her eyes. 

You tell them what happened. You tell them the truth. That you knew about the Elder One and his plans. That you knew who his allies were. Your voice shakes at some point. You have always viewed this mixed group as your friends, people who you could trust with your life. No matter how hard you tried to resist and tried not to get involved, you did. You couldn't help it. They pulled you in with their stories and their pain. How could you ignore that? 

They were yours, this little rag tag group was your clan too. You were in a way responsible for them. They looked up to you. 

Now that trust is broken possibly gone. It was like a glass window that is broken and as you try to pick up the shards, it cuts your fingers and you bleed. 

"Huh." Sera shrugged. "Well that sucks." 

She says it plainly and without any real edge. You're rather surprised, you'd think she would jump at the chance to ridicule your gods and at you for being super "elfy". But she's not. 

You are uncertain as to what that meant. 

In their own way, they don't needle, they don't ask for more. Solas looked...well, he's always been a closed book to you. Perhaps it is Dorian's words that rings the loudest. "I still trust you. Andraste's tits, we all do. Everyone makes mistakes in the past. At least you're trying to fix it, but, promise you won't follow some other Darkspawn magister? My countrymen would hate to be shown up." 

He hugs you, his mustache brushing against your cheek, drawing out a short laugh that quickly dissolves into tears. 

Perhaps it was foolish to think you could keep this charade. That you could fight the good fight, be the hero that everyone needs, be the Inquisitor. 

Night falls and you're in your room, on the balcony. Before, Josephine would come up and and you would talk to her. Together you would go over some more human politic nonsense, cuddle and sleep. But that was a lifetime ago. You've already expressed the truth, rather repeating the same mistake from before, but this time to protect. (But wasn't that your initial reason? To protect yourself from reprisal? Look how that went.)

You fall asleep in your ridiculously huge bed. 

It's stupid how much you miss Josephine. It's foolish how quickly you have adapted to her body pressed up against yours, her hair tickling your skin, the way she looks in candle light. 

You manage to fall asleep, you manage to get up the next morning, get dressed. You miss the weight of your staff but you also know Cassandra is still pretty pissed of at you. You manage to go to the war room, where Leliana and Josephine stand in one corner and attempt to ignore your existence. It is Cullen who hands you the missive. Cullen's voice who tells you. 

"It's about your clan."

You open up the missive and read it. 

Your ears ring and you can only hear a loud throbbing sound. 

You steady yourself on the back of a chair, Cullen's mouth is moving but you can't hear anything. 

They never had trouble there, why now? Why did you come here? Why weren't you with your clan? They need you. They need you and...and you're no longer trusted. Why did Cullen even bring this up? Was it just to inform you? Your chest tightens painfully, your breathing is erratic and you realize, faintly, as you slid to the ground that you're having a panic attack.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tears and rapid heart beats. Don't make me go.

You sit there and even with Cullen's help, your breaths are quick and shallow, your vision swims. 

You hadn't had a panic attack in years and despite being attacked by demons, dragons, red templars it never came up. Sure you had a sudden moment of indecision, a healthy dose of fear but you kept moving. Even when Haven fell and you nearly froze to death, you kept your wits about you. Even when the world ended and all you saw was the future should you fail, you did not falter. 

You close your eyes, ignoring the stinging pain. You haven't cried ever since your brother died a decade ago. 

A warm hand is pressed against your cheek, dainty, not at all like Cullen's man hands and you risk opening your eyes. It was Josephine and your breathing kicks up notch. She is resplendent in her gown, her hair tied up. She smells of flower. You duck your head, focusing on your hands. Eventually your breathing returns to normal. 

She retracts her hand, her eyes still on you. You can feel her gaze. 

"Thank you." You mutter quietly, staring at your knees. 

"Of course." Her reply is quieter still. She moves with the rustling sound of lace and silk. Her scent remains. It clings to you, a reminder of what you have lost, what you have willingly given up. 

You stand, back to the wall, your gaze on Cullen. There is only sympathy in his eyes. He understands. In some strange way, he believes he knows what you're feeling. You almost laugh. Almost. You're the one who helped a monster kill the Divine. What he did in Kirkwall was nothing. What he let happen in Kirkwall was between him and his Maker. There can be forgiveness for his crimes. 

There cannot be any for yours. 

"I will send troops to assist." Cullen speaks and there is no disagreement, not even from Leliana who surely hates your guts. "Consider it done." 

You just nod. You are quite certain that if you were to open your mouth, the only thing that would come out would be sobbing. 

If only you hadn't gone off on your own. If only you haven't decided to trust the word of a darkspawn magister. If only the world was fair, you wouldn't be here. You would be with your clan, helping guide them. You wouldn't be here wallowing in your own fear, your guilt, your crippling anxiety. If you let it, your own emotions would bury you. If you let it, the world you saw in the future would come to past. If you let it. 

"What is next?" You manage that with nary a stutter. "What is next." 

Your back straightens, you take deliberate steps to the map, examining where each marker is placed. A sharp focus dominates your mind. Cullen is a man of his word, if he says he will help, he will. Despite this, in the long run, your clan doesn't matter. Putting resources aside for one Dalish clan would not save the world. You know this. You don't matter, not in the long run. Your task, your duty, is to save the world. 

Your Keeper had commented on this before. Your devotion to duty. Your ability to make the right choices. The ease at which you sacrifice. But that is what the Keeper does, is it not? You guide, you lead, and you make all the hard decisions. You live with the choices you make so that others would not have to. 

It is easy to harden yourself. It is like the time when all the babes died one particularity cold winter. You are-were-is the First of Lavellan Clan. 

You begin to plot out the next troop movements and for once, there is no disagreements. Only the sound of a quill scratching parchment. 

The world is muted, the colors washed out. 

You barely notice Josephine as you walk out. She is a blotch of yellow. You like yellow. The color is beautiful. 

//

You throw yourself into your work, into closing rifts. They say you walk in the Maker's light, that your enemies burn before you, certainly they burn but not because of the Maker. You are quite skilled at fire magic. 

Your companions go back to gently ribbing each other, making comments that have no real bite in them. You ignore their attempts at drawing you into their conversations. Some, like Vivienne, are uncertain as to how to even speak to you. Solas is uncharacteristically quiet. You notice his failed attempts at talking to you. As if there was something gravely important but he just couldn't bring himself to reveal it. He's hiding something. You only notice it because he's showing the same signs. A secret at the tip of his tongue, something that troubles him. 

One would think keeping secrets isn't a good idea. It always comes back to bite you in the ass. 

You step over the red templar's crispy corpse. Shems. Templars. Even worse. You bite back a cruel word. Such a foolish waste of life. 

Their bodies are strewn across the plateau. You lean against your staff, looking but not seeing, a menacing figure in the middle of a battlefield filled with corpses. You and your merry band had a cut a blood swathe through the Venatori and red templars alike. Routing them out was simple once you focused and realized you knew more about your enemies than you thought. 

Bull approaches you, a massive hammer in his hand. "How you doing boss?" 

You shrug, the tip of your staff digging in the sand. "I'm alive." You say noncommittally. "Why do you ask?" 

His one good eye looks at you and he rolls his shoulders forward. "Just wondering how you're doing is all." 

Your lips thin in response. "How do you think I'm doing?" Your words are sharper than you wanted them to be. 

"You broke up with Josephine." He says it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. All you could do is stare incredulously back. No one knew that you were courting her. You had been very discrete and when you ended it, nothing had changed. "Ah, don't think you can hide things from me Boss. I'm very good at what I do." 

You scowl. "So I realize." You say sourly. 

Bull places a massive hand on your shoulder. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here. You helped me out, now I'm returning the favor. What I'm doing for the Inquisition is to help save the world, what I'm doing for you, is for you. You ever need anything, Bull's chargers are there. I'll even do it for free, no price." 

"Thank you, Bull. Think you can protect me from our devious spymaster?" 

"What? Her? No. Her nugs are terrors. That and her birds. Never seen such a demonic flock of birds in my life." 

You bite back a laugh, a smile on your lips. 

"Ah, there she is. Wonder where the Boss was hiding."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A capture? Or a kidnap?

Honestly you really shouldn't have been daydreaming. Things have settled down in Skyhold enough to a point where it used to be. Cullen still trusts you, believes in you and you are thankful for that. Thankful enough to talk to him about his lyrium withdrawal. You noticed. Leliana noticed. But you noticed. 

He is more than a templar, already he had taken the steps away from the chantry, away from the life that he thought he wanted. Conquering his lyrium withdrawal was a formality. He didn't need it to be an excellent commander. 

Things were looking up and you were out investigating venatori activity. Cassandra even let you wander off alone. She's still frowning at you but she's not angry. Not the way she was. You really should talk to her. Her respect meant a great deal to you. As did her trust. Speaking of trust...Josephine. Leliana. That was a bag of cats you didn't want to shake. You really should talk to Josephine. Explain yourself. Tell her...tell her you still love her. Break her heart again when you die. You were surprised when after you closed the breach, Leliana didn't knife you. You always suspected she knew, that she was simply waiting. Turns out, Leliana was just that cold, that suspicious, that type of a person. You had tried to help without revealing the truth, to reassure Leliana. Must of felt like a betrayal, a ruse, one that Leliana fell for. No wonder she was so angry. 

With these thoughts mulling through your head, you walk lightly, your staff in hand, feet carrying you to a new destination. 

Of course, this would be the perfect moment for venatori agents to swoop down and grab you. Really, that tree? Wasn't really a tree. And that bird call? Not a bird. Foolish Dalish. Idiot. You have been around too many shems. You have forgotten the way and now you will die. 

There are four of them, all cloaked, faces hidden. One lands a hit against your temple halting any spell casting, and another grab you around the waist. They are taller than you and you're a squishy mage. It is easy for them to manhandle you onto the ground. You go down kicking, lashing out with your fist, short bursts of electricity sparking around your clothes. 

You almost let out a cry of warning before the knock out powder takes you out. 

Vaguely, as your vision blurs, you wonder why they didn't just cut your throat. 

You awaken later, some time later, in a cave. Caves? Here? How--

The fuzzy peach blob becomes a face, one that you know. "Calpernia." 

The slave turned mage smiles at you. "Lavellan." 

You sit up, instantly aware you are unarmed, but unharmed. You are alone in the room, a singular exit and Calpernia is in the way. She walks over, sitting on the end of the cot, the same as she had always been. You remember meeting her for the first time, a Tevinter mage who seemed closed off, cold. But as you talked to her, pestered her really, as she was to be your ally, yes? And it is easier to fight for someone you know. It was good to see someone normal. She told you about her past, about who she used to be. Her goals. Her dreams. 

You smile back at her. But it is fake. You wish it could be real.

In another time, another life, you could have been friends. 

She leans in, you do not move, she kisses you.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay some background?

You pull away after a second, shocked, your cheeks turning red. 

She laughs at your reaction, a brief flash of a girl she used to be. 

You remember her as this elusive figure who was cold. She was very driven to her goals, which, as you listen around could be seen as a detriment to your own. She wanted Tevinter back, free of corruption, free of class systems. You thought then that she was just blind. But as you traveled with them, you find she is polite, and kind. You find that she bought slaves and then gave them their freedom. She is an idealist, you realize, but her kindness is sharp. Her goals would devour the world. 

When you meet Dorian you realize that they are the same. They both want a better Tevinter. She at least wants to abolish the slave institution. Dorian seems rather blind to it entirely. 

You make friends with her because that is something you're good at. You talk to her she tells you about herself. You share your own experiences. Underneath her goals, her rants about Tevinter and her plans to overthrow the slave system there is a person who dreams. 

You see in her someone who had changed in the course of her journey. A part of you fears it. What would the price be? For victory?

The brief time you spent with them, the Venatori, was useful. You learn about their magic and that is invaluable in of itself. Your Keeper would have been amazed as to what knowledge you have gathered. 

Corypheus had found you much like he had found Calpernia. There are many old ruins. You were terrified at first, who wouldn't be? But your fear didn't stop you from attacking him and his minions. It seemed to intrigue him, you, something about you makes him pause and stare. He sees something. He gives you an offer. He offered you a piece of the world. You just had to help him. 

Perhaps he is part Desire and he sees what you want. 

He offers you a piece of the world. 

The Dalish never believed in what the Chantry said or what it preaches. As First you know a bit but you don't know it. Just that the Chantry had templars who were dangerous, zealots who were even more dangerous, and what an Exalted March was. Creators, everyone knew that. 

He offered you a piece of the world and you took that offer. You could have brought the Dalish and all elves to a new Dales, one where everyone would be safe, where the old teachings could be taught without fear. You could see it then, a safe place for elves to live and to learn. A haven. A place to call home. 

Your focus snaps back on Calpernia. "What was that for?" 

She looks amused, the edges of her eyes crinkling in a silent laugh. "You should have seen your face."

Now you raise an eyebrow. 

"It is good to see you again." She continues on, hands on her side. "I must admit, it is quite surprising to see you on the other side. Corypheus said that you were playing the long game. I can understand throwing your support to another group, I did hear that the Fereldan King offer the Hero of Fereldan the Dales." 

That was ten years ago. Another promise the shems didn't keep. 

"Your actions would be strange, I have to admit. But I get it. They trust you. You are the hidden agent. He says that soon the trap will reveal itself. It is infuriating that we have to wait, it must be so irritating to be surrounded by their.... " She searches for a word. "Hypocrisy. They would elevate you for their own doing. It must be tiring."

A multitude of thoughts race across your mind. When you had encountered Corypheus again at Haven, he was...angry to say the least. You had ruined his plans. Among other things. 

"Ah." You pause. 

"Samson is a fool but it doesn't matter. I am building my forces and I await my turn. Thank you for getting rid of his templars."

If working with the Inquisition didn't further her views on what Corypheus really wanted, traveling to the future did. He wanted the world. His world. Giving you a piece would have been nothing because he would have turned it to ash. Was that his plan? Or was it that he failed in turn, that the veil remained ripped forever and demons roamed the land because he couldn't accomplish his task? What would have happened if Corypheus had succeed? More demons?

You clear your throat, your heart hammering in your chest. The fact she hadn't killed you is a good sign. Somewhat. There are lies on lies, plans on plans, and it was making your brain hurt. 

"I do apologize for the rough handling. They were very fond of you. We all were." 

You smile lightly, remembering listening to their tales, their lives. How happy they were. They were slaves and now they were free. Even you could tell that they had transferred masters. Their devotion was to Calpernia. She was their savior. They would follow her to their graves. 

You could use that. You could cut Corypheus's forces in half. Probably stew some turmoil in Tevinter itself. 

"I'll let you go. Surprisingly you with rogues is...and underhanded way of winning. But it was all according to plan. Steal you away safely while this Inquisition gets crushed underfoot. The you can use your Anchor to finish Corypheus's work." She gives you a look. "You're very brave to be doing this, and to think you didn't tell me. We're friends, are we not?"

You think of long nights talking at the campfire exchanging stories. You think of the freed slaves. 

"Yes." You wonder if you could save her. "We are."

//

Cassandra nearly lectures your ear off when you reappear. Apparently you had gone missing and they had thought you had ran off. Or rather, Cassandra accused you of running off and in the same breath, asking if you were okay. It wasn't a good sign to run off when it was just revealed you were working for the enemy. You deflect most of their questions easily. The rest of the mission was done quickly and they were riding back to Skyhold. 

You go to Leliana first. She isn't your first choice but...going to Josephine would hurt too much. You love her still. She made you happy and offered relief during your worst moments. 

You don't deserve her, nor her kindness. 

Leliana listens as you explain what happen, everything you know about Calpernia- more than what you mentioned the first time around. She looks displeased at the later half but also intrigued as to what you were planning. The kindness that you had attempted to cultivate was gone, possibly, destroyed because of your duplicity. 

"Fascinating. And you believe this would remove a great threat?" 

"Yes." 

"I will look into it." It is possible Leliana was already investigating it. She is surprisingly amiable. Actually she is rather...sweet. You frown. Odd. 

"What's wrong?" Your gaze darts from her to the stacks of paper on her desk. 

Her eyes are hidden in shadow. "News arrived when you were away." Her gloved hand picks up a piece of paper. "It is about your clan." 

Again, the world falls away. But this time you hold onto it, grip the edges tightly, and you focus. 

"What about my clan?" 

She tells you. Everything. The world roars in your ears. 

_Scattered. Gone. Dead._

You remain standing, somehow. Your lips move. "I see." And you descend the steps, one at a time, methodically. 

At some point you find yourself outside Josephine's door, one hand up ready to knock. You pause. Can't wake Josephine up. She'd give you tea and listen to you, mostly out of propriety but not because she cared. You miss that. Her caring. 

You sigh, resting your forehead against the door. 

When the door opens suddenly, you nearly fall onto Josephine.

"Your worship...." She is beautiful in her night wear, her hair tumbling down to her shoulder. "What are you doing in this late hour? Are you well?" 

In your dazed state you could barely manage any coherent words. She guides you by your arm into her chambers and starts the fire. "I've got some new imported tea, it is all the rage in Antiva, perhaps you would like some?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josie Is

Josephine is words. She speaks the way a book is read, the words seamless and they dance in the air. 

You notice her unkempt appearance, the strands of hair that stand out, the dark rings under her eyes and the mere presence of that sight snaps you back to the present. 

For a brief moment all your attention focuses on her. On the fact that you are stepping into her room, a place you used to frequent and now is as alien as the person before you. 

The awareness draws other thoughts to the forefront of your mind, pushing the grief back. 

She is a shem and the first thing you do is go to her. 

You frown at the thought. 

"Inquisitor?" She had brought the tea out and you hadn't even noticed. "Is something the matter?" 

You look again, your gaze captured by her appearance in candle light. She is silk and smoothness, her brown skin and dark hair making her look so different than anyone you had ever seen. She had stolen your heart the moment you laid eyes on her, despite her somewhat glaringly bright clothing. 

It offends the eye and you knew at the moment that she was no warrior. 

But Josephine had proven to be quite a fighter using her wit and written words to make nobles heed the Inquisition. 

You clear your throat and close the door behind you, your steps not as shaky as they were before. "Leliana informed me of the status of my clan." 

Josephine's face was soft and she had only sympathy and kindness to offer. She poured the tea and listened as you explained what had happened. About how Cullen's troops arrived too late and how they could not do anything about the bodies aside from dragging them into the woods. Your voice is rather flat as you speak, reiterating words as if it didn't have a personal impact on you. 

Through it all, she held your hand, and said nothing when it shook and you had to pause and compose yourself. 

She sometimes reminded you of a doe, her huge eyes, the softness in her features. You even courted her like one, making sure as to not make any sudden movements or else she would flee. 

"They're gone." You say towards the end, reiterating the words as if to make sure you remember, to squash any sort of hope from your heart. 

"Some may survive, you have said your clan passes through that area often." 

You think of the Keeper, the hahren and those who kept the stories alive. If any had survived, they would have a rough time surviving with dwindling numbers. No matter how the tales went, the Dalish were simply a bunch of nomads trying to live in the outskirts with few supplies. Without any hunters who would feed the survivors? Without the Keeper who would keep the lore?

"No." You say softly. "They are gone." 

She looks at you in a way that makes your heart clench. You know then that she loves you still and that makes your chest hurt, the pain running up your jaw. You never really had a break up like this, then again you never fell in love with anyone before. The Dalish didn't exactly have room for love. Well, yes there was those who married because they loved each other so, but not for those in your position. Your numbers were dwindling, when once all elves had magic, now only a few do. You were supposed to have a child by now, one who would hopefully have magic. 

"Tell me about them? Your clan?" 

You tell her about them, about your life before the Inquisition-before the mistake. In a way it helps sooth the ache. You won't be the only one to remember them. Someone else will carry their stories, the memories. 

At some point you had passed out, your head in her lap. Her fingers were always gentle as they traced along your ears. Her fascination with them were strangely acceptable. Perhaps it was because you were in love with her and that her touch was not disagreeable. 

When you woke up, you are curled up on the floor, a blanket draped over your thin form. Cole squats next to you, flowers in his hands. "Your favorites." He says, handing them over to you. You sleepily accept. 

It was strange to think of a spirit of Compassion as a he, or to have any other name, but here it was. Here he was. 

"I felt your pain earlier but you had already left and I did not wish to intrude." Cole sits next to you, his brimmed hat covering most of his face. "You didn't like it the last time I did." 

You had been engaged with the Ambassador on something truly intimate and Cole's sudden appearance had ruined anything you had planned. He didn't even had the decency to make either of you forget. 

You sit up, yawning, the grief still heavy on your chest but manageable. "Why are you here?" 

"I felt your pain." He repeats. "It was different. Heavier. You were enshrouded. I wanted to bring the sun back." 

You raise an eyebrow at that. 

"It's still there, links upon links, it keeps you from flying away. You should fly, you're meant for it, soaring across blue skies." 

"Whose mind are you reading from this time?" You ask, wryly, getting up. "Mine?" 

"No." Cole's gaze is on the fireplace. "Hers."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She got to talk to Cassandra. She should. But it is hard when she hides.

You are startled awake, fingers gaining purpose on the wood, stopping yourself from falling off the rafters. Baron Plucky sits not too far away and squawks at you. 

It was the same dream as before, the brief moment when she was catapulted to the future. 

It always ends the same way. 

Cassandra's body thrown on the ground, blood spilling from her open wounds. Leliana gutted. 

You can't ever erase that image from your mind. 

It is partially why Cassandra's harsh gaze upon you when the truth is revealed cuts through you so cleanly. She would lay her life down for a lie. Of all of them, she deserved the truth. 

You know you do not deserve her loyalty.

"I have need of you." It is Leliana, her face in shadow, her voice light. "In a three days time. Meet me at the stables." 

Then she is gone. 

Before, you manage to coax out a smile or a small story, a snippet of her life before she became the Divine's Left Hand. In her, you saw the future, the expediency and efficiency of what is to come. Yes lives will be lost along the way to stop the breach, and yes those lives will be calculated, weighed and measured. The burden on her shoulders is more so than yours. She won't be seen as the hero, the one who is the Herald, she is the knife in the dark. 

She shows that edge towards you now, where there used to be blunted words and a half smile at your antics there is only coldness. 

It is your fault. 

"Three days time." You muse as you descend to the floor. 

What was Leliana planning?

//

It is easy to find Cassandra. She is always training. At first you had wanted to speak to Cassandra after the reveal in the war room, you wanted to apologize but the sight of all the destroyed practice dummies made you rethink your chances. She might kill you in her anger. In her grief. 

So you wait. 

She is training still, forearms gleaming in the noonday sun. "Seeker." 

Cassandra looks at you, her customary glare on her face. "Inquisitor." 

In public she is polite. She manages propriety the best she cans. But you can see it, in the way her muscles clench, the way her eyes look at you. There is pain there. Pain that you caused. 

"May we talk in private?" Josephine's lessons has you talking like a shem noble, to help others see you less like a savage and more like someone who could lead them. 

You try for her sake.

Even as every lesson is an unconscious attempt to wipe away the bits of you that are unseemly to court. The parts of you that is Dalish. 

You understand, but still, it hurts. This is reality. There is no place for the Dalish in this world. 

"Very well." Cassandra hefts her sword and sheathes it. You both retreat to a shaded part, where you can talk freely. 

"I wish to apologize." You begin, watching her as she wipes the sweat off her brow. "For not being truthful. For my part in this. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"But it did." She is strangely calm, her gaze measuring you. "You did not kill her Most Holy, we all saw what you did and I...I cannot fault you for your actions. I may disagree and condemn it, but you are right. There are more things happening in this world than I can see. More than ever, I know that the Seekers are unable to seek the truth. If things were not as they were now, perhaps you would not have to gone to such extremes." 

You find her admission startling and highly suspicious. "Who are you? And what did you do with Cassandra?" 

She makes a disgusted noise. "Just because I sound reasonable does not mean I was replaced. Merely that I...I have opened my eyes." 

Your look of surprise must of been quite evident as Cassandra snorts. "If anything, I have learned that not all things are as they seem. Things have always seemed so straight forward, simple. Who did what. Who killed who. The intricacies were all in Leliana's court, she was the one who dealt with the intrigues. I was the sword, the shield of the Sunburst Throne. But it is never that simple."

"No. It isn't." You sit back, leaning against the stone walls. 

Cassandra makes this noise, and you smile. Sometimes she is too delightful for a Seeker of the Chantry. "Despite everything, I believe that the Maker sent you here. Not all heroes can be like the Warden. We all make mistakes, we all have parts of our past we do not reveal. That you had remained here to rectify your mistakes, speaks volumes of the person you are. Not many are capable of facing their mistakes or fixing them." 

"I was scared." You say softly. "I was terrified that someone would realize the truth. I didn't want to die." 

"All things die." Cassandra says as soft, her gaze shifted away, to a place you cannot reach. "We all lose the people we love." 

You sigh, staring at the grass underneath your feet. You wiggle your toes. Even the frigid temperature here could not stop you from going barefoot. 

"You tried to save her. That is more than what others would have done in the same situation. But it does not absolve you." When the light hits her eyes in the right direction, they looked almost like topaz. Eyes of a wrathful god. "I expect nothing will." 

Your head dips in acknowledgement. There is only death, you have seen it and you know it will come. Whether in the final battle or by Leliana's hand it will come. 

It is payment. It is your pound of flesh and blood. 

//

Skyhold is beautiful and yet Solas seems content in his rotund, researching. You don't know how to approach him. Solas is as far away from as the furthest peak in the world.

You stand next to Dorian, leaning against the railing. 

His mustache is as impeccable as always. While Blackwall had an impressive beard, one that Dorian had frequently accused of housing small birds, you cannot deny that facial hair was always curious to you. It is a human thing you think, or perhaps a not-elf thing. 

"Still in those horrific pajamas?" Dorian barely looks up from his book. "I thought you'd burnt those already." 

"They're not that bad." You protest, resting your head on your arms. "They're...warm." 

"Yes, certainly." He closes his book, copying your posture. "And given to you by the Lady Ambassador." 

Even hiding your face in the crook of your elbows couldn't hide the blush that radiates all to your neck. 

"I'm not one to judge." Dorian pauses. "Much." Another pause. "Even if it is atrocious. An insult to the eyes I tell you. Why, it's enough to make my good Tevinter senses go blind from alarm." 

You let out a short laugh, more of a bark really. "Tevinter senses?" 

"My fashion sense." He speaks with a sultry smile on his lips and heavily lidded bedroom eyes. "Highly trained, cultivated from the greatest minds of our age." 

This time you can't help but let your eyes roll. "What would I ever do without you Dorian?" 

"Be attacked by the fashion chevaliers and carried away to be assaulted with rotten tomatoes." 

You elbow him in the side and he sputters, grumbling about sharp pointy elfy bones.

"Ahem." Solas is looking at you with disapproval on his face. 

There is something in his eyes. His gaze. 

You turn away to speak to Dorian. You never really understood Solas. No matter how much you tried.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A parallel is made.

You see it in the way Leliana's lips firm, her eyes dark in thought. You can hear it, the gears turning. Traitors everywhere. A purge is needed. Everyone can see it actually, Leliana's true form and intent was always enshrouded, but here and now, her path is clearly visible. Woe to any who get in her way.

Blackwall had revealed the truth about who he is, how he isn't a warden, how he isn't who he is and that he is very sorry. 

Frankly, the truth came as a surprise, although now that you think about it, Blackwall had always asked you the strangest questions. But then, the shem were always strange to you even after you got used to them. You didn't give Blackwall's questions any due consideration as you were in your own predicament. 

Well, he isn't Blackwall anymore was he? His name was Thom Rainer. Now you understand what the Nightmare was talking about. 

"I want to talk to him." You say breaking up the thick silence that filled the room. "He's got...he's got to have a reason as to why he decided to leave now."

"He has left, my agents do not know where he is." Leliana's reply is eerily flat. "Why do you wish to know? To see if he's like you?" 

Your answer is sarcastic. "Yes, maybe he also caused a world shattering event. We could swap locations and write letters to each other." 

She eyes you from under her cowl. If anyone could figure out how to kill with a stare, it would be Leliana. 

"Perhaps, there is some merit in this?" Josephine offers, a hand on Leliana's forearm. It hurts to see that affection. Not in a heart stabby kind of way, but a dull ache that lingers in your jaw. You really should explain yourself to her. She looks at you still, from the corner of your peripherals you can spot her, she looks and turns away, her eyes cast downward. "As an organization, any desertions must be looked at. Especially one such as this. We must close ranks before any news or rumors reach those who we cannot afford to lose." 

You do try to keep track of whatever mechanisms that Josephine intended to use but it goes above your head. There is so much to the shem world that, even now, you still do not understand. Your thoughts drift to Calpernia and her attempts at freeing slaves. Would she have struggled through the political hoops? Or would she have burned Tevinter down and built it back up? Brush off the pawns on the map, start anew, become the authority. It is...a tantalizing thought.

//

"You should not have come." 

Rainer sat cloaked in the shadows. He looks tired. You approach, eyeing the bars of his cage. You are not certain what to think. You learn about what had happened, the crimes that Rainer had committed. What he has done pales in comparison to your actions, the scope of it is nothing. But it is his battle, his war, the blood on his hands. It is his personal demon that he faces. A great foe indeed. 

"I had to know." You say softly. "When the truth was revealed about my past, my mistake, you said nothing. But now, you make your move? Why?" 

"I had a chance to save someone from dying in my place. It was the least I could do, the only thing I can do."

He wears his suffering like a cloak, the lengthening shadows of the cell make even the most innocuous of shadows sinister.

"You would put your life before his? I don't think anyone got saved, it was merely a trade and a poor one at that." 

"It is my fate. I have let my men suffer because of me. I could not save them, I did not save them. It was my mistake. My orders. I must face the consequences of my actiosn."

You try not to sigh or scream. It is hard to determine which action you wanted to do. You need him. Despite the fact he is not a Grey Warden, he is still a skilled fighter. The Inquisition has use of him. You have use of him. In the end, neither his life nor personal opinions matter. You are all pawns in this great game. You fight for higher stakes, to the death.

"Is it because of your honor?" 

"Yes. I want to be an honorable man." Like Blackwall. Like you. You can see it in his eyes. Even now, he considers you a great person. Perhaps it because you had the strength he did not, to admit to your failings and to keep fighting. But then, you only revealed the truth because the lies could not hide you anymore.

You frown at that, letting your displeasure be seen. "It is pride that leads you to this, not honor. If you were truly honorable you would have gone to the nearest warden station and explained what happened and become a warden. Instead you skulk in the wilderness teaching villagers how to defend themselves. You ran away."

"I did not!" He is on his feet, his hands on the bar, a touch of anger in his voice. "..Forgive me Inquisitor, I did not mean to lash out." 

"Still with that title?"

"You are who you are." 

"As are you." 

"Leave me to my fate. Whatever the magistrate judges it to be." 

You snort at that and stare up at the ceiling, praying silently to your Creators. Your hair had grown long since you last let Josephine cut it, the bangs cover your eyes in an unkempt mess. "We are above the authority that is keeping you here." You say simply, using a hand to brush away your hair. "You will return to us."

They were yours. Each and every one of them. Your companions. You have shed blood for them and they for you. There was no way that you will allow them to be taken from you. 

You _need_ them. 

"What will you do?" There is an edge of fear in his voice. Does he wonder how such a task will be accomplished? A knife in the back of the guards? Bribes? In the art of diplomacy, soft words were but a step in the long road towards victory. 

You draw yourself up to your full height, pulling your hood over your head. "What I must." 

//

Retrospectively, you realize that this is a dream. But it was ever so a lovely one. 

Ever since you have taken the Mark upon your hand, your dreams in the Fade are crystal clear, malleable to your waking thoughts. You house the memories of your clan here. There is the Keeper, the hahren who have guided you, your dearest brother who would never grow again. The Anchor has given you power over the Fade in some aspects, but there is always a price. In the Fade, you cannot hide what you are. You cannot hide the truth from yourself. 

The Anchor had spread to your shoulder now, bright green lines that resemble the fauna of your home. While the Anchor may not be killing you, not that you could tell, it's changing you. Or perhaps it is all a metaphor and you think too much. What could it mean? 

"Perhaps it simply a representation of change?" The memory of your Keeper guides you still. "You are far different from the First that left our clan so mysteriously." 

"I have not." You mutter embarrassed. "I am still the same." 

"Da'len." Your Keeper tilts your head up, a smile on their face. "When has anything stayed the same when buffeted by the winds?" 

"The mountains." Still stubborn and somewhat mouthy, you scowl. "They are still the same." 

"To the unobservant eye, perhaps. But given time, they show their weathered faces, their sharp edges softened." 

//

Cole finds you at the uppermost tower, where no one else dares to venture, unless they're Dalish or Skinner. Or Bull when spectacularly drunk. 

"Red lines tie me to her, bright, shimmering. I can't cut them. I won't. I have to." His voice is like spider threads creeping across your vision. "It hurts. But it hurts."

"Getting a read on me, Cole?" Your feet dangle, the ground is awfully far away. It doesn't matter. Skyhold won't let you down. The magic that lingers in the stone remains. 

"No." His floppy brim hat hides his eyes. "Not you. I can't help you." There is a mournful tone in his voice. He is Compassion and he feels everything. 

You reach over and pat his shoulder. "There. There." You say. There isn't anything you can do for a spirit. Aside from binding them and even that venture was fruitless. 

It would appear that your usefulness encompass your ability to close the breach and light enemies on fire. Not comforting your friends. 

Now he looks up at you, then clambers onto the rooftop, until he is next to you. You look over your shoulder at him, eyebrows raised. Cole reaches over, even as you watch and gingerly pats you on the shoulder. "There. There." 

A sharp laugh escapes your lips. You half expect Sera to come crawling out of the wood works. There is a strange connection between you three, one you cannot imagine not having, nor understand. Sera with her vitriol about the Dalish and her uncanny skill with the bow. Cole, the spirit, who follows the guidance of the blades. And then there is you. 

"So this is where you have been hiding." The male and somewhat disapproving tone nearly makes you wince. 

Solas steps out from the shadows. Creators, how long has he been there? Had he perfected his ability to be nigh unnoticeable in battle?

"Going to lecture me on nearly getting killed?" 

"No. I believe Seeker Pentaghast had already talked your ears off." He takes your other side, yet with a respectable distance between them. Unlike Cole who has no idea what personal space is. 

"How are you?" 

You blink. Solas had always seemed this fortress, present but not exactly engaging. Perhaps it was your fault, you weren't particularly pleased to talking to him initially, fearful that he may guess the truth. Solas had always struck you as a hahren, so wise that the dirt under his toes were more thoughtful and relevant that you were. In a way you were trying to prove something to him, what it was...you never really knew. He was so dismissive of the Dalish and they were the same in turn. But it was different. 

More like a disappointed parent. An artist whose project had gone terribly wrong. The image placed on the canvas was not what he had imagined. 

"I am as well as can be, given the circumstance." You look at your hand, the one afflicted by the Anchor and you see him look too. 

Again, there is an expression on his face, one that you could not decipher. 

"You are doing well." He continues, looking as unused to this as you are to receiving it. "The forces that have amassed under the Inquisition's banner, under yours is quite impressive." 

"Would it be enough?" While Leliana calculates and measures the weight of lives lost and lives given, you look into them. The soldiers that greet you in the morning may not be there a month later. Sure, more and more specialists arrive, those who believe in what the Inquisition is doing but still, it is the underdog that attracts you more. They are the ones who you give your time to. The farmhands who laid down their plows and picked up a sword, the individual Dalish who arrive in spite of their Keeper's warnings and the servants who keep this place running. Their names would not be remembered when it all goes down, when the dust settles, history would only remember a few choice heroes. 

"I have seen wars won with lesser forces." He speaks of the Warden you think, but the expression on his face belays that. He's looking further in the past, to a place you cannot see. 

"With Andraste?" You ask, a touch of humor in your voice. It is a joke. He is, as Sera said, old as dirt. 

But the look on his face. His eyes pin you down as well as any arrow. 

You are quite startled. 

His features smooth out, catching himself you think, and he smiles. "Yes."

There is a sadness in the crinkles along the edges of his eyes, a brittleness that leaves as quickly as it comes. "Did you see it? Andraste getting..burned alive?" 

You are referencing his ability to see past battles in the Fade, the spirits reenacting important moments, places where the Veil is the thinnest. What would it have been like? To see the Dales as they used to be? The Exalted Marches? 

"No. To do that would to venture into Tevinter. That would be folly." 

"Ah." You blush, fighting your embarrassment. What a stupid question to ask and how insensitive! "I'm sorry, Solas. I didn't mean-"

He halts your apology with an upraised hand. "No harm done. At times, it is difficult to see past the persona that you have placed over yourself. You are young still." 

You squint at that. Was that...a compliment? "I'm not that young."

Now his eyebrows are raised past his imaginary hairline. "Da'len, petulance is not an attractive look on you." 

Now, you really look at him. If it weren't for the fact that Cole's elbow was digging against your rib you would have forgotten he was still there, watching like the creepy voyeur that he is. ".....What?" Your voice is squeakier than you would have liked. 

Solas's face was the picture of contrition. He palms his face and sighs. "I did not mean..." Now he is the one flustered. "You are a healthy and attractive young lady, there is no shame in that." 

"Are you hitting on me?" 

"Of course not. You're..." He makes a gesture with his free hand. 

"What?" Now, this you got to hear. What is it that Solas wanted to say?

"You are...you." He finishes. "You are...not what I expected. I would admit that I was attracted, but that has passed. You needn't worry." 

Again, you're not sure if he's complimenting you or not. 

"You have a great deal of things, accomplished tasks that most would be unable." Solas's gaze catches yours and keeps it, holding you there. "You have admitted to a great failing and you have sought to fix it. That is an admirable trait." 

Now it is your turn to blush. 

"Everyone makes mistakes. Mine just happens to nearly end the world." 

"No." Solas's flat refusal startles you. "Even if you were not there, Corypheus would have done the ritual. You are not Corypheus. You are greater than he is." 

Greater? The darkspawn magister nearly snapped your arm in half when you tried to stall for time. He didn't die when the blast leveled the Conclave. 

"You are purer than he is." Solas looks up at the stairs and the moons. "There are so many regrets laid upon this world, I do not wish for you to think that your actions were one of them." 

"Someone else would have taken it up, been...gifted with the Anchor." 

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. There is little point in thinking of what could have happened. There is only actions taken to fix what went wrong." 

Sometimes you think Solas and Sera are quite similar. They share the same sentiments. They would look to the future than to dwell on the past. 

"Your markings...they are elegant on you. They are of Mythal, are they not?" 

"Yes." 

A question is framed on Solas's face. A softness in his eyes. "Mythal. It suits you."

"Thanks." 

You fall into a comfortable silence, returning to star gazing.

"Whisper soft, weakened, no choice. Made a mistake. Should not have let it go." Cole speaks, his voice soft. "My fault. All of it."

"Cole?"

"Not you. She will show us the shining way, the path through the darkness. For she walks in the Maker's light. For she has seen the Maker's shadow." 

"Is that how they see me?"

"Some do. May do." Cole stares out towards the horizon. "Envy does."

//

Josephine's hands press against your breasts and you release a sigh, leaning in to nip against her neck. She's so warm and soft under your lips. Your hands pull at her naked waist, pressing her form against yours. 

"Is this what you like?" She asks, her fingers splayed against your flesh. "Like this?" 

Her dark hair was curled in ringlets, framing her face and perfect mouth. You were right, she was resplendent in candle light. 

"Yes." You moan out, touching her in places that she enjoyed, the softness of her buttocks, the space right along her lower spine. You had discovered, quite by accident, that she was quite ticklish. It pleased you. Greatly. 

"Do you want me?" Josephine whispers in your ear. "Do I please you?"

What a strange question. You bring your arm up, to caresses her face. Your arm is veined green, the palm of your hand, glimmering in that sickly Fade glow. 

You shove Josephine back, falling off the bed, onto your feet, your naked form clad in armor. 

She remains on the bed, languid in her movements. The tint of her skin darkens, horns sprouting from her head. "I would have given you such desires, if you had let me. I could feel it, your want, your need. Even across the courtyard. You would have been glorious. But this isn't my game." 

The shape of the Fade? No, not the Fade, this wasn't anything like the Fade. Dark clouds of green swirl around you, the backdrop of your room faded away. Only the demon remained, in her provocative clothing and sultry smile. 

"You're wondering how I got here, how I got to you. Well....don't worry too much. In a while, you needn't worry at all." 

Fire burned around you, the demon's laughter echoing in your ears.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Envy makes an appearance.
> 
> And I had to change the tags and ratings.

Time passes differently here. It could be an hour, it could be a day, it could be as long as your body lives while your mind roams.

You do not like this. You're in the Fade again but not one of your own desires. The Desire demon that had tricked you had scampered off, her amused chuckles echoing in your head. Okay, first of all, what in all that is holy happened? You clearly remember going to bed. You clearly remember waking up a few hours later, groggy, and opening the door to your room.

But who was behind the door? You realize, quite suddenly, that you could not recall.

Everything was a blur, a pleasant dream that you didn't want to wake up from. You were dreaming of Josephine and her touch. You tap your staff on the floor, fully clothed and armored, and you try to think. You're stuck in a dream or in your own mind. The Desire demon didn't even try to eat you, which was a surprise frankly. Instead the moment it realized the ruse was up, it ran off. You inspect your hand and the green crackling energy that most likely saved your life.

"Thanks." You say to it.

You leave your room and pass down the corridors watching as the corners and edges grew soft and hazy.

As you walk further and further away, everything changes. Chairs were glued to the walls and ceiling, people that you've seen before were standing in your dream like statues. As all well and good as it this was, you still had no clue as to where to go.

"I'm here." Said a voice by your ear, nearly making you jump. "I'm here to help."

You whirl about, raising your staff before lowering it. "Cole?"

The spirit sat on the ceiling, peering down at you from the mess he called hair. "Yes."

"Okay." This was better. Marginally. "Cole, what is going on?"

"Envy is here. He's in you trying to figure out what makes you, you. "

"Envy? A demon?"

"He came here and I didn't see it! I didn't see or hear or listen and he got to you." Cole said sadly. "I'm helping."

"Where is my body Cole, did you see where it went?" The last thing you needed was a demon wearing your body and doing who knows what with it.

"I'm standing right next to it. I found you or I found Envy. Or Envy found me." Cole said brightly.

"...Dirthara-ma." You mutter as you cover your face with your hand.

"Is there anyone else?"

"The pretty lady is here." Cole said unhelpfully.

"...Right. Cole, I need to know where this demon is so I can kill it and get out of this. Show me the way."

He helps you and guides you along the way. Envy doesn't show up, doesn't speak, but you get a general feeling of desperation.

"He lost power trying to find you. He's trying to eat as much of you as he can."

"That's wonderful." You grunt as you pick up your pace, running through the corridors. You almost didn't make a turn when you heard a familiar voice.

"Three days without food. Two days without water. What did I do to make the Inquisitor so mad? She won't speak to me." You halt and Cole slams into your smaller frame. But this is your world in a sense and you do not move. You follow the voice until you come upon a dungeon and Josephine.

She is still dressed in those ridiculous clothes, seated behind a set of bars with guards standing in front.

"Josephine?" Your voice is a whisper.

"Have I angered her in some way? I do not know. I told her everything."

"What is this." You ask Cole, anger in your voice.

"What Envy wants."

You stand there and listen for a few more seconds before storming off. You pass more of these scenes, things that a harsh and colder Inquisitor would do. It burns you. You have never thought of using your power this way, ever. But this Envy, if he takes your body, he would make it so.

//

"What are you?" Envy demands with your face, behind a magical barrier, he looks like you.

But his face, your face, is twisted in rage. And want. And desire. And need.

"I've looked through your memories. I've seen what you've done. I know you from before when you were this tiny inconsequential little elf."

You prepare your magics, trying to spot a flaw in his barrier. "I don't remember you." You say causally.

"I was Lord Seeker Lambert." Envy howls. "You were nothing then and now? Now you are this!"

There's a statue of you, a sword in one hand, the heraldry of the Inquisition on your chest a broken Venatori helmet under your foot. It looked quite gallant.

"Huh." You mutter.

The statue made you look quite taller than you actually are and they kept the ears.

"That's me?"

"Yes. You. Shining. Bright. Brilliance! You lead shining men and shining warriors with enough power to take countries. What was the Lord Seeker in the face of that?"

"I don't know." You prepare a spell in your head, unfolding the words and imaging them floating overhead. "I don't know why I'm the hero. I don't know why people follow me."

You know you have Envy's attention and you keep speaking, weaving the spell in your mind.

"You saw my memories. I'm just some poor Dalish idiot who stumbled onto a gigantic conspiracy. I didn't ask for this. Well, " And you shrug slightly. "If I hadn't realized the truth or justified the sacrifices, we wouldn't be here in the first place."

"You wouldn't have spoiled the Elder One's spell." Now that was a nasty look.

"Yeah. Well." You fix a snarl on your face. "He shouldn't have tried to end the world."

You spell hits the barrier hard enough to make it vanish in one go, ice spreading along the floor. Cole materializes behind the demon and stabs him in the back. You fire off another spell, fire this time, and it catches the demon in the face. He howls. Cole stabs him again. You let off another ice spell that freezes the demon's arm up to his shoulder.

"Why. Won't. You. Let. Me. Be. You!" Each word was punctuated with a scream as he throws Cole off him. "Compassion! Stop interfering!"

Cole skips and skids back to your side. "He looks angry."

"How much until he skips his way out of my head?"

"Just a bit more. You stopped him before he could get to the real you."

"I-what?" Mystified by those words you continue firing a barrage of fire at Envy.

Between your efforts and Cole's, Envy gets backed into a corner. Half of him was on fire, still, and there was copious amounts of blood everywhere. He is all rage and spit, the hungry look still in his eyes. Your eyes. Madness swirls in them.

You drive him out and wake up, jolting to awareness, a hand on your shoulder.

"Inquisitor!" It is Josephine and...Wait. What?

Your attention is drawn quickly to the.....whateverthefuck...the demon. It screeches at you all and jumps off the balcony. You swear and grab your staff and leap after it, hearing Josephine's voice in the wind as you go. You use the castle walls as leaping points until you find yourself on the ground and the Envy demon in a corner.

You are in Skyhold, one of the more or less more defensible places? Maybe less. But what you do have is The Iron Bull who was woken up really early in the morning to go fight a demon. You have never seen such a happy qunari. The blood spray was spectacular. It went everywhere.

After it was all over, and you got the blood out of your hair, you wonder.....where the fuck did that Desire demon go?

You remember your dream and who the Desire demon pretended to be and you're on your feet in an instant. You rush up the stairs towards Josephine's room. Was the person who greeted you her? Did she have a purple glow in her eyes? Your heart hammers in your chest as realize you don't really remember. Who was it that knocked on your door?

You slid into her room past an open door just in time to see Cassandra stab someone in the chest. "NOooo--" Your scream of denial peters out as you get a good look of the occupants in the room. In a corner behind Leliana was Josephine in her underthings. She looked horrified. You are pretty sure you have the same exact look on your face.

"Inquisitor." Cassandra pulls her sword out of the corpse's chest. "What is the matter?"

She asks you as if this was a noon time stroll. Sometimes her blase attitude confuses you.

"What happened?" You ask.

"A demon." Leliana says sheathing her knives on her person. "We heard the commotion and went to see what happened. It was then that we found a Desire demon trying to tempt Josephine. It paid dearly for its audacity."

You recall Leliana's threatening words when you first expressed interest in Josephine.

"Thank you. We just dealt with the Envy demon when-" There was no real reason to suspect that Josephine may have been targeted by the demon, or that there was a second demon. Not without explaining what had happened and there was no way you were going to tell Leliana that you had essentially a wet dream about her best friend whose heart you broke and then trampled. You already had a death in your future and the last thing you need was torture and death.

"Solas suspected there was another demon." You look at Cassandra as you finish speaking. "If it weren't for your efforts, I don't think I would have arrived in time."

"It is no burden on me, Inquisitor." Cassandra says warmly to you. "I am only glad to have been able to save a life of a dear friend."

Leliana helps Josephine up and to her chair. "I will get some tea and something to eat." The expression on her face is inscrutable. You wonder exactly what she and Cassandra had stumbled upon. On what the Desire demon showed her.

"I will take my leave as well. Do not worry Josephine, I have posted guards outside your door." Cassandra motions for some guards and they drag the corpse away. It leaves a stain on the stone floor, one that Josephine stares at.

You waver, wanting to leave but wanting to stay as well. "Do..do you want to go to my place?" You ask, haltingly. "It doesn't have any demons there, I promise."

Your attempt at levity is met only with a soft sob.

You are at her side immediately and she recoils. You back away, realization dawning in your eyes. You know what the Desire demon did. What it was attempting to do. When you had stepped closer you spotted scratches on her arm and the tear alongside her clothes. Her lips were bruising slightly. Oh. Now you really want to leave. But you also don't want to abandon her. Silently you curse Leliana. She could have summoned a servant and stayed by Josephine's side.

You grab a blanket and place it by her but you didn't dare approach her. She takes it and wraps herself. You take a spot across the room, and sit, your staff leaning up against your shoulder. You wish you could say something. Anything. But there are no words. She doesn't even look at you.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Palace. There is hope yet.

The Winter Palace was a unmitigated disaster. Well to be precise the events leading up to it was also a disaster. For one thing, you have no idea how to dance and another thing, far more importantly, Josephine could not look you in the eye. Which present problems when you're trying to learn how to dance. You didn't dare dance with Leliana, she might actually stab you in the face. Cullen looked like he didn't want to be here in the first place and you're pretty sure Dorian came just to laugh.

In the end, Vivienne was the one who had to teach you. You and her never saw eye to eye. But you respected what she was trying to do. You respect her and that, in some ways, makes her like you. You figure out early on that she was trying to teach you in her own way, backhanded comments and such, but she wants to see you succeed. You are an elf and as such, you may play the Game but you will never win. Which is perfectly fine with you. 

"Step left, back and left again. Darling." Vivienne is far too cultured to sigh but you could tell she was close to one. "This is the easiest set of dance movements."

You tangle yourself up with your own feet and fall onto your ass as if to show that this was not the easiest set of dance movements.

Vivienne actually does sigh.

"Again?" You say from the floor, climbing to your feet. As much as you despise dancing, Josephine worked far too hard to get the Inquisition to this point for you to fuck up.

"From the beginning." Vivienne takes your hand.

* * *

 "Halamshiral." You murmur, as far as possible from Josephine as possible without actually being in the other room. "I wonder if it sounds like tiny bones cracking under their feet when they walk there." 

No one really disputes you. Halamshiral is a sore point for you and by now everyone knows it. It is a point of injustice so profound, you nearly stabbed a man in the eye when he tried to make a joke of it. What do they see you wonder. Do they see you? Or do they see the Inquisitor? 

"It is where Celene resides. If we are to gain her support and to stop her assassination, we will need to be there." Cullen says lightly. 

"I know." You tap the map with a finger. "Everything will go according to plan. For once." 

You sneak a peek at Josephine. She looks tired and weary. Her splendor is dimmed, the rosiness in her cheeks seemed feigned by makeup. You want to rush over and take her into your arms and comfort her. You want her. 

"Here are the people who are coming with me, the rest, we will sneak in." 

* * *

 

The Winter Palace was a mess. There were bodies everywhere and gore and blood and they keep on partying as if it never happened. 

You lean against the balcony, pulling at the stiff collar against your neck. Without Josephine's input, they had to scramble to figure out what to wear. In the end, the seamstresses copied your clothes, adding onto the Dalish designs with the Inquisition heraldry. It was quite beautiful, a mix of green and black with gold lining. It was strange to see the markings of Mythal on the edges of your sleeves. The others you have brought with you are dazzling as well, Dorian looked as if he was the belle of the ball which he probably was in his own mind, Vivienne was terrifying beautiful in her Enchanter clothing, and Cassandra looked as if she'd break someone's nose if they so much as look at her. She was splendid in her Seeker's armaments. 

You heard their words as your pass, "Exotic. Beautiful. Dazzling." 

Were you just some doll for them to look at? Never mind that you're a mage, a Dalish elf, the one who was closing the rifts so that Orlais would not also be overrun by demons. 

Halamshiral. The place where your people died. Now you stand on their bones and you dance for the shems that benefit from their death. You wonder if you were to sleep, if their spirits lingered here, their tortured voices drifting in the wind. Would you be betraying them? 

"Hello? Your worship?" 

There is a young woman standing before you, she looks vaguely familiar. 

"I am Yvette Montilyet. It is an honor to meet you." She curtsies. 

"Montliyet?" You frown before understanding flickers on your face. "You're Josephine's little sister." 

"Indeed." 

You bow slightly at the waist. "Ellana Lavellan." 

"My Lady Lavellan." 

"No. I am just Ellana. You may call me that if you wish." 

Yvette looked scandalized. "It wouldn't do. You are the Inquisitor, the Herald and my sister's paramour." 

"Well I'm given you permis-" You stop. "What did you say?"

"You are my sister's paramour? Am I not correct?" 

You stare at Yvette and your mouth is suddenly dry and you realize that she had cornered you. You won't be able to get past her without jumping. "We broke up." 

"Why? What happened?" 

"It was my decision and..." 

"But you love her. And she loves you too. You can't give up on her just because she's demanding!" 

"..Wait-what?" Now you are the flummoxed party. 

"My sister is such a fusspot. She is the heir and she has to micromanage me and the family's holdings. While it is not a terrible thing sometimes I wish she'd just relax. Live life. Do life. Do you." Yvette grinned at you. 

You kind of....look a bit fearful now. But you also want to defend Josephine's honor. "I didn't break up with her because of that. I did it because my life is dangerous, she just got attacked because of me and--" 

"That is ridiculous. She will be targeted because she works in the Inquisition! Whether or not she is seeing you would not change that. What is the real reason?" 

For someone so young, she is very fierce. 

You mull her words over. Would Jospehine had been attacked because of you? Because of your desire of her? Your wanting of her? You never spoke to Josephine afterwards too terrified to even approach her. Perhaps...perhaps it was time to use words.

"I'm going to hurt her in the end." You say finally, looking away. "I know I will and I don't want her to suffer because of me, because of what we had." 

"You are certain of this?" 

"Yes." You will die in the end for what you have done. You will not allow her to mourn your death. 

"That is foolish. Why not enjoy the time that you do have? Why not be there with her? Why not build those happy memories so that if someone terrible does happen, which it won't, and if it may she may grieve but it will be brief. That is love." Yvette huffs, all of her ruffles shiver as she does so. "I think the Maker is with you. I think you will succeed. I pray for you every night. I pray for my sister's happiness." 

"Yvette!" A sharp voice rang through and Josephine appears. She is dressed in gold, seamless and like a flower, the edges of her dress unfurl as she walks towards them. "Inquisitor?" She pauses midstep.

You step back against the railing and manage a weak smile. "Lady Montilyet." 

Yvette daintily walks away, her skirts twirling behind her as she evades Josephine no doubt using her dance practice to good use, closing the door behind her and trapping you with Josephine. It was a trap you note. Now the question is whether or not you could survive jumping the railing. 

"Inquisitor." She is a few feet away from you. 

"Lady Montilyet." 

"Has Yvette been telling you tales?" 

"No. She was concerned about you." 

"Hm." Josephine walks over to the railing and faces you. "How..how have you been Inquisitor?"   
  
Sad. Terrible. Angry. "Good. We got the support we needed." 

"I see." She looks...resplendent. You want to kiss her. 

"I have been wondering how you have been doing. I know that I have been distant as of late and that-" You sigh rubbing your face with your gloved hand. "I'm sorry that you got hurt because of me. I should have dealt with the Envy demon quicker then you wouldn't have been hurt. I should have-I should." You stop and rub your face again. "I keep hurting you without meaning to. Maybe we should have never met." 

"What? No. No." She is by your side and her hand is on your wrist and her face is close to yours. "The distance is mine. The Desire demon attempts at having relations with me merely opened up my eyes. I needed time to think." 

"Relations?" You couldn't help but repeat.

"It attempted to have sex with me or take my body. But it didn't. I knew it wasn't you when she appeared at my door. She didn't have your eyes, the kindness and love that I've missed." 

You let out a shuddering breath. "It tried to trick me too. That's probably why it knew to get to you." 

"Did it? Or did it already know? It is a demon after all." Josephine is not angry at you. She is smiling at you. It feels as if the sun shone on you and only you.

You stare at her, at her lovely face and you let the smallest of smiles grace your face. "You're beautiful." 

"Flatterer." 

You hold out your hand. "May I dance with you?" 

She curtsies. "You may." 

And you dance the rest of the night away with the loveliest woman on your arm.

* * *

 The mission with Leliana is full of surprises. Like trapdoors, spies oh my. She needed your help and you give it, mostly because Leliana is terrifying and because you owe her.

"She said, I'm sorry I failed you." You tell Leliana what happened when you went into the Fade again and when you met the Divine or a spirit pretending to be her. "Maybe that is part of what the encryption talks about?" 

"What. Why? What use is all of this then-" She gestures to box and the emptiness it represented. "Let go of my burdens? What nonsense is that." 

"You know what the price of sacrifice is. That every life taken would be for a reason. That in the far future, our  children will benefit and be protected. I know of the burden you carry." 

"What you wished for would have destroyed the rest of the world." 

"I wished for an impossible thing. And I paid the price for it." You place a hand against your chest. "She doesn't want you to do the same thing. She doesn't want you to destroy yourself." 

"What use are the wishes of the dead?" 

"Because we do not forget them and we remember their words." You take a deep breath. "What I said before wasn't a trick. I am here to help you. The path you're on it will turn you into something you don't want to be." 

 Leliana stares at the inscription in the box. "What if it is what I desire?" 

"Then do so. It is your life." 

"My life isn't mine. It never was." She closes the box. 

"Then perhaps you should figure out what you want your life to be. You're right, Divine Justinia is dead. She is no more beholden to your life than I. She has released you. Now it is up to you to decide what you want to do." 


End file.
